Small Town

Dear St. Louis,

What a ride? A long haul of battles endorsed with signatures formed from fears and nightmares, with laughter and anger. From backyard barbecuing, to the long sunny walks to the other side of town. There’s nothing more than I’ll remember about you. The place that birth me, the bridges that hurt me, and the land that blessed and cursed me. The beautiful arch grounds, the highway sounds, the smells of challenges existing right before you exit. There’s no place like home, is what the old wives tales speak of. The humble beginnings, the accolades, the friendships that felt like forever, the relationships that turned into never, and the stench of the river flowing through the city on a humid summer evening . The days were young and I didn’t know that those were the golden bridge to my makeup. The mysteries that will forever play a part in my head along with the solved murder cases that still haunts me. It’s time we say goodbye for good. It was such a joy allowing you to root me, but like every apple one must fall and grow elsewhere. I can’t imagine the days when life mattered more than letting you go. I can never get back grandmas cooking, daddy’s visits or even the candy lady who use to let us get more than we can afford just for $2.00. I can do nothing but embrace the world from the ground beneath my feet, as tears well in my eyes, I can finally begin to understand truth. It’s not where you come from it’s where you’re going. I found my confidence to fight all from your city lights, I found my courage to dream because of your poverty, I found my reasons to love, even when it wasn’t given to me. You’re a bad mother fucker, some people you broke, some people you made. I promised myself through these notes that one day I’ll make your name smile again, it’s just not from the crumbling soil of living inside your land. I will never forget the trouble that lurked, the buildings that sat as staples to my childhood now gone, the school districts that poured more into the kids who showed effort than the ones who needed attention, the swag, the mall trips without permission. The small city where everyone’s fighting just because the turf mattered, hoods meant more than life and money means more than family. The times are wild, I could never make peace through the chaos, and never understood why everyone continued fighting when love could’ve been a Black rep. I remember them field trips. I remember fighting to save what couldn’t be changed and that’s the moment I knew it started with self. Beneath the surface of the gun smoke was fundamentals, if I could survive there, success has got to be in me. I learned over the past decade that I cannot love you because you weren’t made to love me, I cannot carry you around anymore. My soul was placed on different corners, and I fell in love with an atmosphere that breathe life. This place is somewhere with stillness, somewhere with lights that shine without dimming, somewhere where peace is the treasure, down in the valley and kindness greets me with support. Somewhere where love doesn’t hurt. I feel as if I’m at a thousand funerals of my loved ones writing this farewell, but I have to say this. I have to replace what no longer brings me safety. I have to go somewhere where death isn’t the destiny of fate I would be met with for choosing to make a difference, or for the betterment of my own sanity. No family dysfunction, no late night hours roaming the city while dangers lurked, no being used by the word love and publicly shamed for it. No lies and manipulation, no grief and hurt, no depletion in my soul as I choose to do the inner work. Somewhere where my grind means more to me than having designer, where my family means more to me than looking for a man to be a provider. I found a place unfamiliar with your speed. A place I know that’s just right at the pace it moves just for me. Here, where the air is fresher, the kids are classier, bikes can be rode all day long and no arguing or the neighbors yelling. The biggest hope of all is that you have no concern about the neighbors shooting up or smoke crack at the playground in front of them. A place where your meeting up looks like growth, not hair weaves, extensions, and viral video uploads. A place where the mountains weren’t personal but were a beautiful sight to see. A place that offers me peace. Peace that I never believed was real, peace that didn’t test my endurance level but my heart, peace that didn’t allow struggle to be the reason to destiny swap, but peace that instilled dedication. Where accountability doesn’t look like you’re falling in love with Satan. Peace that can’t be explained but it can only felt. The demons that I’ve fought so hard to cast down was me carrying this city along hoping that one day I’ll come home. A city that left me to be my worst, and the souls that refuse to leave my ancestors blood in the trails of change will never understand while I will never call St. Louis home again. I love my city, but I’ll be damned if I fuck with my city, but nevertheless you’ll always be my city. We have just become strangers and there’s no reintroducing after 9 years of being loved exclusively, I want to continue counting, I don’t want my days numbered because someone couldn’t needed an accountant. There’s nothing more better than being free from the pain of my city. The joys of love that has found me gives me a new name for my city. #Dream Catcher!